


Queen of the Night

by gardnerhill



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Operas, Prompt Fic, Singing, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:59:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey, it worked for Victor/Victoria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2014 July Watson’s Woes Prompt #3: **I Never Get Your Limits.** A character's hidden talent saves the day. The talent, and the character, is up to you, as well as what constitutes 'saves the day'.

Sherlock could explain very well how he and Sergeant Donovan had come to be at the ratty building down by the wharf, tracking down yet another kidnapping case – they’d glared at each other over the desk, but the best detective on Greg’s squad needed the best unofficial bloodhound at her disposal. John had hared off with Greg after the kidnappers’ contact, and now they ran through the abandoned warehouse looking for the perps.

He’d explain, poorly, that he’d been so caught up in the minutiae of the traces on the ground that the appearance of the men themselves had been a - surprise. Two of them, big and armed, looming over two unarmed people, inches away from the small female detective with ugly grins.

Which was when Sally opened her mouth – and a bolt of pure, clear, piercing F6 at Volume 11 hit the men’s ears from inches away.

The thugs staggered back for a second, which gave Holmes and Donovan the opportunity they needed to disable and take down both of them; they finished cuffing them as the rest of Lestrade’s team showed up. The terrified young woman they’d been guarding was safe and sound.

“Opera training,” Sherlock said.

“Six years,” Donovan said. “Till I got bored and started ballroom dancing with Phillip.” She looked pointedly at Sherlock. “The kind of dancing that leaves scuff-marks on one’s knees when you take a spill, and makes you so sweaty that you shower and use the deodorant at your dance-partner’s home.”

Twenty minutes later, as they approached the station, he spoke again. “I’m…sorry. For what I said that night.”

Sally smiled. “Accepted. Heh! I was afraid you’d drag John down with you. But it seems he’s dragged you up.”

“No argument there,” Sherlock said wryly, and the reporters converged on them.  



End file.
